Friday, December 18, 2015

This week's question isn't just timely, here in the thick of the holiday season, but welcome—at least to my mind (ignore that Grinchy Alan Orloff's post from yesterday).

I'm a sucker for holiday traditions—whether those traditions involve food or decorating or reading and watching...or, as this week's question stresses, rereading and rewatching.

That 24-hour marathon of A Christmas Story that TBS has run for years (and TNT for years before that, as I remember)? I've had no problem keeping the channel on in the background all day and into the night.

Does A Charlie Brown Christmas or The Grinch Who Stole Christmas or Rudolph or Frosty or... well, you can see where that list might grow—do any of those ever lose their appeal? And our son Dash has already grown to love Polar Express so much that he'll watch it any time of the year. Back in mid-summer while vacationing in West Virginia, he watched it twice in a row. (Christmas: It's not just for Christmas anymore, right?)

And it's not just films and TV shows I'm talking about. The Grinch is on our coffee table right now, I can recite from memory "A Visit from St. Nicholas," and the season wouldn't be the season without a certain letter to Virginia who'd questioned whether there really was a Santa Claus. (The answer, as we all know, was "Yes.")

My wife and I are slowly building our own holiday traditions—a subject I'm planning to explore in more depth in my column for the Washington Independent Review of Booksearly next week—but I want to give a shout-out in the meantime to a book that has become a cornerstone of my own seasonal reading each year: William Joyce's Santa Calls.

Joyce is certainly one of my favorite children's book authors of all time (Arnold Lobel and Maurice Sendak would be up there as well), and Santa Calls is, to my mind, his masterpiece—which follows a young man named Art Atchinson Aimesworth, his sister Esther, and their friend Spaulding on a trip to the North Pole, by special invitation of the man in red himself. The story that falls out of that invitation is a stirring adventure and a beautiful coming-of-age tale, unexpectedly emotional and ultimately capturing the soul of the season. Both the story and the images are brilliant, and it's become an annual highlight to read the book aloud—a highlight renewed by sharing it with our son these days.

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

I know this is
going to come as no surprise to those who know me, but the Christmas season
always finds me running behind schedule. I don’t know why; it’s not like it’s a
pop quiz holiday – if you own a calendar, you know when it’s going to arrive.
And if you venture inside a mall after September, you get an even bigger
reminder. But, every year I find myself unprepared. This means that finding
time to “Reread a Favorite Holiday Book” would be on the list of Things I Have
Time For – right next to “Stenciling the Driveway.”

That’s not to say
that we don’t have our traditions – it’s just that they mostly revolve around re-watching
movies. With a movie you can multi-task. Try addressing envelopes while reading, and you'll understand.

I have noticed, however, that over the
years I’ve become somewhat jaded. Movies that I used to love unconditionally
now have developed some annoying aspects. Examples:

Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer: Okay, was
Santa always such a jerk, or did this just recently happen? He’s ready to drop
kick Rudolph because of his nose? No wonder the other Reindeer laughed at him
and wouldn’t let him in their games. Donner
even goes so far as to jam an uncomfortable fake nose on Rudolph and then offers this
little gem of wisdom: “There
are more important things in life than comfort: Self respect. Santa can’t
object to you now.” Great message there! Santa was like the mean girl
pack leader in high school. You had to conform to his dress code or you would
be unmercifully mocked. Also, what’s up with the sentiment after Yukon
Cornelius falls to his death?“Well, they are all very sad
at the loss of their friend, but realize that the best thing to do is to get the women back to Christmas town.” Uh –
gee thanks. Let’s go back there where, if you notice, girl reindeer can’t play
in the stupid reindeer games either! Speaking of Christmas town, why is the toy shop run like a sweat shop? The Head Elf is a sadistic grouch who shouldn't be in any kind of leadership role.And,
lastly, what the hell is wrong with the little red-haired girl on the Island of
Misfits? Granted her dress is ugly, but that can’t be it – can it? Could it
because of her red hair? Oh, god. What if Rudolph is some kind of precursor to The Sixth Sense, and the color red
signifies death or tragedy?I may need
to lie down as I figure out that one.

Seriously. Why am I here?

A Christmas Carol: There really is no
polite way to ask this, but is the entire Cratchit family high? Seriously,
watch it with that thought in mind. Their unrelenting giddy happiness makes way more sense
if that’s the case.

What exactly is in their figgy pudding, anyway?

It’s A Wonderful Life: Yes, a
tear-jerking classic. But, when George must see the hellish life that will
unfold if he gets his wish to have never been born, we see that his wife Mary
is a librarian who never married! Noooooo! The horror! And, how come Mary wears glasses in this hellish future? Does marriage to George cure near-sightedness?

Thanks to George Bailey, I have perfect vision!

However, there are
some that pass the test of time. We always watch Elf, A Christmas Story, The Bishop’s Wife (because – duh – Cary
Grant) and Scrooged with Bill Murray.

But, despite some
of my North Pole Elfish musings here, all of these movies are a part of our
Christmas tradition, and I love watching them every year with my family - even
if I do heckle Santa from time to time.

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Like
Meredith, Christmas for me is all about tradition and I love it. It’s a
constant in the fickle cycle of life. But unlike Meredith, this tradition doesn’t
include the reading of Christmas themed books nor the watching of movies. But
it does include plenty of other traditions.

For my
husband and me, it starts with the tree, a real one of course. With our log cabin surrounded by a forest of
Christmas trees, we haven’t bought one in years. About a month before the big
day, when the snow is still walkable, we search for the perfect spruce tree and
mark it with red tape. The weekend before Christmas we trek out in snowshoes to
retrieve that lucky tree usually buried under successive snow storms, which
makes chopping it down a challenge. But my husband, now an expert in Christmas
tree chopping, has it down to an art. The next challenge is to half-drag, half-carry
the awkward and heavy tree back to our cabin through the deep snow with our two
dogs stepping on our snowshoes.

I remember
one particularly memorable year, when we were doing this during a blizzard. We
arrived home ready to collapse only to discover the power had gone out. And so
it remained for several days, putting our Christmas celebrations in jeopardy.
For that is another tradition. Our cabin has been host to our family
Christmases since before my sisters’ kids were born. All have reached their
twenties, with one or two entering their third decade. On this particular
Christmas, with our cabin filled with their laughter and mirth, we were trying
to figure out how to cook the twenty pound turkey on the barbeque, when
miraculously the power came back on and saved dinner…and our backsides. A
useless electric water pump had us trekking out into the cold and snow to use
the outdoor facilities.

We never put
the tree up until everyone has arrived, usually the 23rd, and after it
has dripped its

melting snow onto the basement floor. We play Christmas music,
drink wine, sometimes mulled wine, and decorate the tree with decorations that
span our lifetimes. I still have the decoration my grandmother made for my very
first Christmas tree. Each ornament, string of beads, strand of tinsel or shimmer
of icicles has a story to tell; like the glass balls bought in Moscow during
our posting to the Soviet Union or the purple icicles picked up at Harrods during
a pre-Christmas business trip to London or the glass beads that date back to my
husband’s childhood Christmas trees. Once the tree is shimmering and glittering
in its full Christmas glory we stand around and say “It’s the best Christmas
tree ever.”

Even though
all the kids are now adults, we still get up early on Christmas Day, turn on
all the Christmas lights, inside and out, play Christmas music loudly to ensure
everyone is awake, make pots of tea and coffee and begin the great Christmas
unwrapping. Needless to say the piles of gifts are flowing out from under the
tree.

Christmas day
meals are also special. Growing up, the main treat, apart from the turkey, was the
escargots dripping in garlic butter that my father used to make for lunch. Now we have an enormous breakfast of eggs,
bacon, smoked salmon and pancakes dripping in maple syrup, cooked by one of the
nephews.

And of course
the turkey dinner. I don’t think the menu has varied since I was growing up,
though over the years there have been variations on the stuffing and the
dessert. Lots of turkey with crispy

skin, mashed potatoes with sour cream,
squash and beans, all smothered in gravy, with homemade cranberry sauce. My
mouth waters just writing about it. For many years I would make pies made from
my special homemade mincemeat laced with liberal amounts of brandy. But the
kids never liked it. Part of our tradition was to listen to their ‘Oh no, not
again’s and watch their faces wince as they sampled a taste. But for the last
couple of years, after the last batch ran out I haven’t bothered. I am still
searching for another traditional dessert.

Although the
number has gone up and down over the years, we are usually about twelve sitting
around the festive table, snapping our Christmas crackers, laughing at the wimpy
jokes, and sporting the colourful paper hats, at least some of us do. Others
refuse to wear them, insisting they are silly. My husband carves the turkey and
I dish out the veggies. Because we are such a crowd, by the time the last people
are served, the first are anxious for seconds.

After dinner,
various libations appear, from very old single malts and cognacs to vintage
ports. Often cigars are enjoyed in the freezing cold of the porch. While most
of the time we are flaked out on the

sofas and chairs, digesting the enormous
meal, there have been occasions when the music has roused us to dancing. Once
we even had a raucous conga line threading its way through the living room and
kitchen.

But as with
anything, traditions evolve with time and life’s passages. This year with above
normal temperatures bringing in rain instead of snow, it promises to be a very
green Christmas…unless by some miracle we get an unforeseen snow storm. The
nieces and nephews have all grown up with some bringing significant others into
their lives. There is even a baby on the way. So I expect the make up of our future
family gatherings will change as some of us head off to other destinations to
start their own Christmas traditions. This year, we will be fewer in number as
one of my sisters and her family will be spending it in the Canadian Rockies
with their daughter who is working out there. We’re going to miss them.

I imagine
like us you have your Christmas and other holiday traditions that have evolved
over the years. It’s what helps make this time of year so special, that and
families, for this is a time of year for families.

I wish you
all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday. Take care until we meet again
in the new year.

Q&A with Criminal Minds!

Question of the Week

Each week the crime fiction authors of Criminal Minds respond to a question about writing, reading, murder and mayhem.Question of the Week:

As a writer, what do you make of readers who flip to the end and see what happens last first?

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Susan C. Shea debuts a new series, a French village mystery, Love & Death in Burgundy in spring 2017 (St. Martin's Minotaur). The third in her Dani O'Rourke series came out in Feb. 2016. She lives in Marin County, CA.

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